


Meant For Each Other (For Certain)

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Betrayal, Biting, Blood, Bonding, Character Death, F/M, Fights, First Meetings, Happy Ending, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Marking, Mental Coercion, Siblings, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night Erik gets a lead that could get him back on Shaw's track, he runs into Charles, gets claimed and tries everything he can to stay on top of things.</p>
<p>The night Charles goes out to have a drink, he ends up foiling one kidnap attempt, gets his sister kidnapped, finds his mate and gets courting advice from a demon. </p>
<p>The night Emma Frost tried to play Erik, she ends up teaming with Charles to save her mate. </p>
<p>The night Raven goes to a bar with her brother, she meets a demon, gets duct taped to a chair and watches her brother go out of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for anon prompt at X-Men First Kink:   
> "Neither an alpha or omega knows for sure which they are until they meet their mate, but by using personality and a few other things, it's possible to make an educated guess. 
> 
> Charles has been raised to be a good omega all his life. 
> 
> Erik is a very typical alpha. Of course, like everybody else who hasn't met their mate yet, he doesn't really know yet, but given his personality and general propensity for kicking butt, taking names, and leaving a trail of disappointed would-be omegas in his wake, he's pretty sure.
> 
> Then Erik meets Charles. And realises that Charles is his alpha."

”Clean up. Now, Azazel.”

Erik saw the look on Azazel's face before he grabbed a hold of the first body and vanished. Janos glanced him with equal distaste. Erik knew that Janos would end up taking the fall for Azazel's bad mood, but he didn't care. If Janos bent over and took it, that was his problem. The six dead bodies on the warehouse floor... A problem. He was here for information and dead men didn't talk. 

”And you, do something useful with your hands for a change, and start spraying away this goddamn blood!”

Janos stared at him for a moment, before he walked back out to the glaring sunlight. One good thing about this place was that they were never short of water. The boats clattered and bounced against the pier when Janos started to raise the mass of water. 

Erik tried to contain his annoyance. Adrenaline coursed through him, making his thoughts clear and focused. He opened his palm and the knife jumped back to him, making a slush sound when it withdrew from the body. The metal hummed against his hand, the blade warm and sticky from the blood. Erik tried to ignore the pleasure crawling up his arm. 

The closer inspection of that impulse would only lead to a raging hard-on and he had kicked his latest omega to the curb last night. A tactical error in retrospect. Now there was no one to suck him off tonight. The bitch had gotten on his nerves with the constant touching, and Erik had figured that it was better to kick him out than break all his fingers. He was considerate like that. 

He pushed the thought aside, right now he had a job to do. Erik walked deeper into the warehouse, looking for anything that would get him back on Shaw's trail. 

***  
Charles Xavier stared at himself from the mirror and frowned. Weeks worth of sunbathing and swimming, and he still had no tan to speak of. What was the point of a holiday if you couldn't work up a proper tan? No one at the University would believe he had gone anywhere. They would joke that he had hidden in his flat to write or some other nonsense. 

He turned a bit, reconsidering the shirt. He liked Miami, but he always overdressed. Charles sighed and started to unbutton the shirt for the third time. He also hated that he had agreed, again, to go out with Raven. He knew it was an another blind date. She kept setting him up and then insisted that it was all unplanned and accidental. That same “accident” had happened quite often in last two weeks. Charles hadn't thought that a vacation meant endless stream of awful blind dates. 

Charles had tried to reason with her, but Raven didn't listen. She never did. She insisted that Charles should put himself out there, because you never knew when the right one would bump into him, and it certainly wouldn't happen if he spent all his evenings drinking mojitos with the other omegas in the all omega bars. Charles understood the logic, but still, going out to look for a mate felt...unseemly. 

Raven was right about one thing though. Charles had started to worry that he hadn't met his match yet. It shouldn't take this long or be this difficult, not according to his friends. And over mojitos, they had told him a lot. Enough to make Charles wish that he had what they had with their alphas. 

Charles changed the shirt one more time and decided it would do. He allowed himself one more glance and frown through the mirror, before he head out of the door. 

***  
“One of Shaw's lackeys will be in that bar tonight,” Azazel repeated, whisking his tail like an angry cat. “She was certain about it. You should go. We got no other leads.”

“Frost's lies go deeper than the fucking Mariana Trench! You can't trust a single word that comes from her mouth, especially if she offers the damn information for free!” Erik said. “Knowing Frost, this is a trap, one of those whacked mind games she likes to play, and you want me to play straight to her hand?”

“I have told you what she said,” Azazel said, his tail moving in aggressive manner. “You do what you wish with the information.” 

Janos stood behind Azazel, eyes glued to his whisking tail and practically quivering with fear. It was adorable. Erik understood full well what Azazel saw in him. That gave him an idea.

“Then you don't mind if I take your dear Janos with me, do you?” Erik said. “He won't be in any danger, because Frost was certain and you trust Frost. ”

Azazel froze for a moment and Janos turned to stare at Erik, then back at Azazel, and Erik again. 

“He can go with you,” Azazel said and Janos looked like he was about to say a word for the first time in a very long time. 

“Fine,” Erik said and flashed a smile at them. “Janos, go wait in the car.” 

Janos hesitated, and Azazel turned to look at him, something passing between them in silence. Azazel's tail crept up to touch him for a moment, and Janos turned around with a shrug and walked outside. Erik watched the exchange, arms crossed. Azazel could blame himself for this mess. He had trusted Frost, and all who did that, ended up paying for their mistake. 

“I'll bring him home before midnight,” Erik said and Azazel looked like he was about to jump him and impale him with his swords. Erik smirked. Maybe it was unwise to bait Azazel like this, but it sure was fun. 

“Don't wait up,” Erik quipped and walked out, closing the door behind.

***  
The bar was packed, people dancing and drinking with equal determination. The blare of minds hit Charles like a ton of bricks. He staggered for a moment, and Raven grabbed his arm to pull him away from the biggest flow of the people. 

“You alright? Too much?” Raven said, or more like shouted, and still Charles could barely hear her over the music. 

“Loud!” he shouted back, and Raven nodded like she had heard him. She pulled him through the bar proper, out from the open doors on the back and into a large patio filled with tables and chairs. It was quieter here. 

“Better, right? Sit here, I'll go get you a drink,” Raven said and before Charles had time to reply, she dove back inside. Charles counted to ten, then twenty, and before he could get to thirty, a young man walked to the patio. He carried two drinks and he headed straight to his table. Charles tried to put up a smile. It came a bit stiff, but it was best he could do. The young man was handsome, sandy blonde hair and broad shoulders, fresh and solid like he had jumped out from a toothpaste add. 

“Hi, you are Charles right? Your sister was at the bar, and she asked me to bring this to you,” the man said, placing the drink on the table. “May I?” 

He pointed at the free chair and even though Charles wanted to tell him to stop wasting his time and go back inside, he only nodded and took a long gulp of the drink. It was strong, and much too sour for his taste. He tried not to make a face. 

“I'm Adam,” the man said and held out his hand. Charles shook it. His skin was warm, but Charles got nothing out of him, not even a spark. He sighed and took an another gulp. Adam opened his mouth again to say something polite and insignificant about the weather, or the music, or the ratio of liquor to ice in his drink; the usual boring chit-chat that happened in a situation like this. Charles was not in the mood. He leaned back in his chair, pressed casually his finger against his temple, and Adam's expression fell blank for a split second. Then Adam smiled, stood up and left. 

Charles sighed and pushed the drink away. Raven would be mad that he did that, especially since there was nothing wrong with Adam. Nothing, except that he was all wrong. There was no pull, no spark, nothing. Charles expected something noticeable to happen. The other omegas had described him what it was like to meet your alpha. Charles wanted that. The fireworks and the magic, whole nine yards. But so far he hadn't felt anything even resembling that, no matter how many men he had met.

“What's wrong with me?” he asked from the moon, leaning back in his chair as far as he could without tipping it over. The other people on the patio threw curious looks at him, but another slight nudge from him, and they turned back to their own conversations. 

“You are in my way,” a man said behind him and when Charles turned to look, he lost his balance, the chair tipping too far. He should have fallen down, but he didn't. 

The chair froze in midair, then straightened back up to its four legs without being touched. Charles stared forward for one surprised second, before twisting around to see who the man was. There was no one there. Charles looked around, but there was only the same people on the tables, the open door of the bar. 

“What was that?” he asked, from no one particular. He hadn't imagined that, had he?

“What was what?” Raven asked, stepping carefully to the patio, balancing a tray of shots in her hand with practiced ease. “Where's Adam? What, no, you brushed him off already? Dammit Charles!” 

“He wasn't my type,” Charles said, still looking around in confusion. 

A moment later, all hell broke loose.

***  
Erik drove fast, ignoring all the rules that didn't please him. He liked driving, the endless stream of moving metal around him. The radio played an old big band tune, the moon was bright, and gradually Erik's mood started to lighten. This might be a wild goose chase, but he would get to drink or fight, or with any luck, to do both. The evening wouldn't be a total waste. 

Erik glanced at Janos who sat on the passenger seat and stared at the road. Erik's driving didn't seem to bother him the least, but then again, it was hard to tell. It was only around Azazel that he was more animated. 

“Why did you let him decide?” Erik asked suddenly, interested to know the answer. “You could have told him to fuck off.”

Janos frowned.

“Well, you could have.”

Janos thought about that for a moment, before nodding in agreement. Then he tapped his chest over his heart.

“He's in your heart? What that has to do with anything? It doesn't mean you have to do everything he wishes.” 

Janos didn't comment, and Erik thought about the matter, while he grazed by a few cars, who blared their horns. When the road was clear and open again, Erik glanced at Janos. 

“Fine. He is your alpha, I get that, but it doesn't mean you have to do everything he says.”

Janos turned to stare at him, like he had said the strangest thing. 

“What? It does?”

Janos shook his head and smiled, a sad and pitiful smile like Erik was the one who was confused here, not him. Erik's mood darkened again and he didn't ask anything else. 

Erik parked the car where it wouldn't draw attention and they walked the rest of the way. When they found the bar, Erik approached it from the assumption that this was a trap. He looped around the place, noticing the three entrances, buildings around, the stream of people, the cars parked on the street on every side. There was plenty of ammunition. Janos flanked him, making his own notes. Trash can placement wasn't important to him, but the amount of open space. The back patio had plenty of that. His abilities were limited when indoors, and Erik counted that in.

“I'll go through the back,” Erik said when he had seen all he needed to see. “Cover the exit. You have a clear way out through that alley if things get bad.”

Janos cocked an eyebrow, a silent question. 

“I promised to bring you back save and sound,” Erik said. “And this place? It's a tuna can, packed with metal.”

Janos shrugged but didn't offer any other comments. Erik nodded, his focus narrowing down to task at hand. In and out, simple. He started to walk toward the door, only to find his path blocked by some drunken idiot in a baby blue shirt, leaning too far in his chair and almost toppling. Erik scoffed. 

“Get out of my way,” he said and took a hold of the metal in the chair, nudging the flimsy thing back up. The drunk didn't even notice him and Erik slipped into the bar, looking around. A blonde waitress with a tray of shots passed him, holding them without spilling a drop. The bar was full of people, exactly how Erik had assessed. The room layout was straightforward, the long bar at one side, mess of chairs and table in the middle and the band took what little space there was left. 

Erik categorized everything in his head into threats and non-threats, aids and hindrances as he walked toward the bar. He leaned against the counter and looked around again, now paying more attention to people's reactions. He drew attention, naturally, the usual glances from both men and women. Some alphas sized him up, few omegas stared at him. The usual.

“Hey, buddy, what do you want? There's a line,” the bartender shouted at him over the music and Erik turned to look at the woman. She was tiny, big brown eyes and complicated tattoo pattern exposed by rather flimsy attire. Erik stared at her tattoos, looking for the motif within the patterns. There wasn't any. The bartender stared back, and suddenly there was fear in her eyes. It didn't take long to guess why. 

Erik reached over the counter, snatched a hold of her wrist and yanked her forward. “Where is Shaw?”

“Let go!”

“Where is Shaw?” Erik asked again, squeezing harder, the bones of her wrist crackling. 

They started to draw attention, people backing away from them and the bouncers turning to look at their direction. Erik knew he had five seconds before the tall alpha on his right would step in, fifteen before bouncers would get this far and then the girl would slip away. He couldn't let that happen. 

He sucker punched the alpha before he had even finished turning to him, and the man dropped like a bag of sand. Size didn't mean you could take a hit. Erik used the opening to drag the bartender over the counter. She slid down to the floor, crashing glass on her way. She struggled and Erik smacked her head against the counter to stun her. He grabbed her under his arm and started to make room back to the door. People mulled on his way, unsure what was happening, if they should stop him, or let him pass. 

“Bail enforcement agent! This woman is a wanted fugitive!” he shouted and the mood of the crowd changed instantly. People ready to defend the bartender stepped aside and stared at her as she turned from a victim to a villain in one swift swoop. Erik moved fast toward the door, dragging the dazed woman under his arm. The bouncers wouldn't be fooled as easily as the drunken crowd. 

He was almost at the door, he could see Janos standing outside, when there was a flash of baby blue shirt and a hard knock landed squarely on his midriff. The strength of the tackle was surprising, and Erik went down, pulling the bartender with him. It was a silly scuffle. Erik tried to push the man off of him without loosing his hold on the girl's arm, who in turn tried to pull free and kick him at the same time. It was plain childish. Erik growled and tried to get a hold of the man, aiming for his shoulder but touching his bare arm instead.

In that moment, Erik Lehnsherr's world shifted. 

***  
“Not your type? How do you know? Did you even give him a half a chance? Charles...”

“Raven, do shut up,” Charles said and Raven stared at him stunned. Charles stood up and searched around, not only looking at people but their thought patterns as well. He could pick a mutant in any crowd if he put his mind to it, the pun intended. There was one near the patio door, his mind a swirling flow of movement. He kept a close eye on indoors, while checking occasionally what happened at the patio. The back-up. 

“Something is up,” Charles said and turned like he was about to help her with the drinks. “Two men, mutants, one inside, one at the door. Some type of air based mutation.”

“Drunk Budgie?”

Charles nodded and Raven took his arm, leaning on him and giggling in high-pitched voice. “Oh c'mon! I only had three!”

“More like one too many. Let's get you some coffee,” Charles said and started to guide her toward the door, like she had trouble standing on her feet on her own. The door wasn't far, maybe ten steps from the table and the man didn't notice them until they were almost at him. Raven giggled again, feigned an astonishing tumble on her high-heels and fell straight at the man, pushing him a bit out of balance, drawing his attention. 

“Oh, so sorry, damn heels. Oh wow, you are really handsome!” Raven cooed with her fake drunk voice, while effectively pressing against him, blocking him and checking for weapons in one smooth move. Charles rushed past her into the bar, and saw tall man drag the bartender over the counter and slamming her head against it. The roar of people's minds confused him for a second, and the next thing he saw was the man heading straight at him, dragging the woman along.

The man was tall and muscular, and he moved with a certain precision that told Charles that he would know how to fight. There wasn't much options. The people, the dazed bartender, the mutant behind Charles back, all factors in this. The idea seemed to come out of nowhere, and Charles moved quick, gathering as much speed as he possibly could, landing his shoulder in his midsection in a perfect rugby tackle. 

Charles felt the surprise radiating out of him, then the annoyance and anger when he tried to push him away but there was something else, something that made Charles push down harder against him, ignoring the bartender he should help here. All he could see was the pale stretch of the man's exposed throat, the soft spot where his pulse thrummed. He didn't know what happened, and even later, when he thought back to that one single second, he couldn't say what made him do it. He bit down, tasting the salt of his skin, the frailty of his flesh between his teeth, the scent of him filling his mind like smoke. The man squeezed his arm, but he wasn't trying to push him away anymore, he held on to him, his body relaxing underneath his. 

People around them gasped and laughed, whispering in shocked tones, there were whistles and lewd shouts, egging Charles on. It was all an insignificant buzz to him, only this man here mattered. Charles gnawed into his flesh, like he couldn't get deep enough into him. 

“He claims him right there, somebody stop him!”

“Don't go in between stupid, he'll go into a frenzy if another alpha gets near!”

“Goddammit, get the girl out of the way! Watch your hands!” 

People started shouting and arguing, and over the ruckus Charles heard Raven scream, her voice piercing through his mind and startling him to his senses. Charles released his hold on the man's neck and looked around, searching for her. There was a flash of red, people screamed again and then Charles was flying, crashing into people and slamming on the floor. He hit his head and things floated in and out of focus. A red devil stood over the man on the floor, the handsome mutant touching his hand, Raven hanging limp over his shoulder, there was a flash of light and then they were gone. Vanished into the thin air. Charles blinked. 

“Someone call the cops!”

“Help him up, get some ice!” 

“A chair, give me a chair,” a man said, a familiar voice. Adam, that was his name. He picked him up and slumped him on the chair. “You hit your head, can you hear me? Charles, can you hear me?”

Charles stared at him for a moment before nodding. Pain flashed behind his eyes and Charles touched the back of his head where it hurt the most. A nasty bump, but no blood. 

“Here, hold this against it,” Adam said, offering a bit of ice wrapped in clean towel. “We should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

“No, I'm fine, I've been knocked around worse. Thank you though,” Charles said and used the opportunity to affect people around him, a simple sleigh of hand to shore up their natural belief that someone else was already taking care of this scene that bothered them. It was easy, and all the he could pull at the moment. People started to turn away, their attention shift to back to their own evening. “Where is the bartender?”

“I don't think you should have another drink now...” Adam started to say but Charles was already up, looking around. 

“No, I mean, where is the girl, you know, big brown eyes, a big tattoo?”

“Oh. The bouncers took her. In the back, I think. Don't you should sit down, and...”

“I'm fine! Thank you for the help, nice meeting you!” Charles said, already pushing his way through the crowd toward the door marked 'crew'. His sister had been kidnapped right in front of his eyes, and only one who knew what was going on in here, was that bartender. 

The crew door wasn't locked and Charles marched right in, only to find himself in a stock room, full of two brawny bouncers and the bartender standing in the middle, sobbing. The mood was tense, and the woman projected strong wish to be out of here. Charles pressed his fingers against his temple and the bouncers blanked, staring at him without blinking. The bartender stared at him with wide eyes, like a scared little rabbit.

“Come along then, I can't hold them all evening,” Charles said and the woman hurried to his side, relief radiating from her. 

“I need to get out of here,” she said, stating the obvious. 

“Follow me.”

***  
Azazel let go of his arm and Erik crashed to the floor like a sack of flour. Janos smirked and let go off the girl, who dropped right next to him. She was out for the count. Erik didn't even know who she was, or why Janos had grabbed her. It was so hard to concentrate, all he could think about was the teeth marks. 

“What happened?” Azazel asked, and Janos gestured something and smirked. “He was claimed? Are you serious?” Janos gestured more, and Azazel turned to stare at Erik, the bruise on his neck. He slapped his hand over it, covering it from sight. Azazel started to laugh.

“I wasn't claimed! The freak just bit me! And who the fuck is that girl?” 

Janos looked at Azazel, made a little gesture. 

“She was with your mate,” Azazel informed, laughing again over the word 'mate'. Erik growled and pushed up from the floor, still holding his hand over the teeth marks. “Janos thought you might want something of his.”

“I don't! What the fuck do I care? It's the bartender we need, not this bitch, whoever she is. We have to go back to get the other one. She recognized me, she's with Shaw.”

Janos shrugged, and looked at Azazel pointedly. Azazel whisked his tail in agreement. “If your mate has the bartender, and you have his girl, then...”

“We can trade,” Erik said, catching on. He should've thought that himself. He kicked the woman, rolling her over. “Fine. Lock her up, and keep an eye on her. I need a shower.”

“I'm sure you do,” Azazel said and laughed again. Erik threw a threatening look at him and stormed to his room, at the other end of the foreclosed house they used as their headquarters. It wasn't his room, no more than any other room in the house, but he slept there, so for the time being it was his room. Erik closed the door behind him and scrambled the metal of the lock. Anyone trying to get it would have to kick the door off the hinges to do it. 

Of course, when living with a teleporter no space was completely secure, but Erik knew Azazel was too busy laughing his ass off at the moment. Erik didn't feel like laughing. 

He walked to the bathroom and stared at the teeth marks on his neck. The dents were even and deep, the bruise forming around the bite. He touched the bruise hesitantly. The barest brush made him shiver. The way the man had smelled, his weight on him, the inexplicable feeling of calm when he had bit him... Erik stared at his own reflection in the mirror, and in sudden fit of anger smashed his hand against it, the mirror fragments falling in the sink with sharp clinks. 

Erik sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the tub. Why he had allowed that man bite him? He should have bashed his face in. Or call any of the thousand little metal objects at the bar and flung them into his body. He imagined how all the gold jewelry worn by the crowd would have sunk into the mans chest, blood spurting out in dozens of tiny wounds. His stomach turned and he leaned over the toilet bowl and threw up. 

“Get a grip,” he said, leaning his hand against the toilet. “This isn't real. You got a job to do. He's no one.” 

It didn't work. Every new violent image against the man with a blue shirt caused him to vomit, until he spat out stomach acid and he had to admit his defeat. His body had made its decision. He couldn't even imagine of hurting the man who had bit him. He laid on the white tiles, shivering, trying hard to think away out of this. His mind kept drifting back to the memory of the man's body pressed against his, the feeling of his teeth sinking in. 

He remembered the horrible, humiliating things he had made his omega lovers do, their faces flashing before his eyes in astonishing clarity. He shivered violently, his body convulsing from the strength of the memory. Then another, long forgotten memory surfaced, him as a boy, a toy for an alpha to play. He raised his head weakly, and threw up again. 

***  
“I shouldn't trust you,” the woman said over the coffee cup, staring at Charles. “You are Lehnsherr's mate. This could be some weird plan to make me talk.”

“Let's start with names and work our way from there, alright? Hello, I'm Charles. Who are you?” Charles said, offering his hand. He had a splitting headache and the woman's mind raced from one thing to another in claustrophobic circles. He had to rely on actual talking for the moment. Crude and slow, but until the woman calmed down, he wouldn't get anything from her mind. 

“I'm Angel. Nice to meet you. I think.” Angel shook his hand, before wrapping her fingers back around the paper cup. They stood on the curb, near the food truck where they had bought the coffee. 

“Who is Lehnsherr?” Charles asked, adding more sugar in his coffee. “And why he is trying to make you talk?”

“Erik Lehnsherr is a psychopath and a killer, who is after even bigger psychopath and a killer called Shaw. And it's my crap luck to get stuck in between those two. Yours too, I imagine, since you claimed him so damn publicly. Shaw will hear about that, and he won't take it well, you can bet on it.”

“Wait, wait...Slow down,” Charles said, rubbing his head. The headache ebbed away, but her mind was a sharp jagged edge of panic, clawing against his mind. “I claimed him? I can't do that, I'm an omega.”

“Uh, honey, whole bar watched you do it,” Angel said. “I know it's confusing when it happens but it's not that complicated. You bit down and he submitted. That's all you need. You claimed, he accepted, now go book a church.” 

“No. No, no...That is impossible!” Charles said, staring at Angel in astonished horror. “I am not alpha. I have no alpha qualities, none whatsoever!”

Angel shrugged and took an another sip of the coffee. “You look fine to me. I mean, I wouldn't kick you out of the bed.” 

“Thank you,” Charles said automatically, still trying to grasp what this meant. “I nipped his skin, that's all! We were fighting, and I wasn't thinking. Marking is... There is the ceremony, proper way to do it. And it takes time! I bit him for a split second!”

“Marking is marking, it doesn't matter how you do it, or how long it takes, or if you have cake after,” Angel said, and leaned to throw the empty coffee cup into the thrash. Her aim was perfect. “Besides, you'll find out if you succeeded, when the bond starts to pull him to you. He won't be able to help it, he has to find you. ”

“He has my sister,” Charles said, crushing his coffee cup in little ball of soggy paper. “I'm going to find him, and if he has hurt my sister in any way...”

“Oh, you are not an alpha. Sure,” Angel said, rolling her eyes. “Because alphas _never_ say shit like that.”

“I just want my sister back,” Charles said and tossed the cup into the trash. It clanked from the side, and the headache intensified, bright lights swimming across his vision. 

“Don't worry, Lehnsherr can't hurt her. She is the direct link to you, and like I said, he really has to find his way back to you. Your sister is safe, unless of course, she tries to keep you from him, or him from you, in which case...” Angel bit her lip, not daring to finish the thought out loud. Charles tried to keep up what she was saying, but his head was a bursting with pain. He pressed his hand against his eyes and groaned.

“Are you alright?” Angel asked, her voice sounding tinny and far away. The phone in his pocket started to ring, and it was like his head exploded from the sound. 

***  
”Is she in there?”

”Maybe I should do the questioning,” Azazel said, leaning against the door that lead to the large pantry next to the kitchen. ”You don't look well.”

”I'm fine. Step aside. Now,” Erik said, staring at him coldly. Azazel shrugged and stepped aside, smirking. He was having fun with this, but Erik couldn't do anything about that now. 

In normal circumstances, he would've shown Azazel his place, but this was not the normal situation. It would be disastrous to lose a battle at the moment. He could never gain the leadership back from that, not as an...He couldn't even think about the word. So he had to allow Azazel's mockery. Just long enough to get his head, and heart, back in the game.

Erik stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. The pantry was a large open space, with embedded shelving and ceiling windows. The girl sat in one of the dining room chairs, duct taped thoroughly. That was Janos' work. Azazel would've hammered her arms to the armrests. Erik's stomach lurched from the thought, but he held it down with sheer will. 

They stared at each other in silence. 

“Mutant or human?” Erik asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. 

“Let me out of this chair and I'll show you,” the girl said, flashing a bright smile. She looked like she had a stack of beauty pageant ribbons in her closet. The smile didn't waver. 

“Don't play with me,” Erik said with his best threatening voice. “You have no idea what I can do to a hostage.”

“Don't play with _me_ ,” the girl said, her voice equally threatening. “You're in bigger trouble here.”

Erik scoffed. “You are duct taped to a chair.”

“My brother claimed you. Can you imagine what he will do to you when I tell him how you treated me?” 

Erik wanted to slap the smirk off of her face, but the girl was right. There wasn't much he could do to her, but then again, there were other choices. 

"Here's what happens now,” the girl continued, staring at him challengingly. “You let me go, and I might say something nice about you to my brother, so he takes pity on your sorry ass and gives you what you clearly itch for. How's that?”

Erik moved quickly, grabbing a hold of her jaw before she had time to react. He forced her head up, the angle awkward so she could hear the crackle in her bones and realize how easy it would be to snap her neck like this. 

“Here's my offer: you call your brother and ask him where he is, or you will get a chance for some one-on-one time with Azazel, since you clearly itch for it.”

The girl's eyes turned from blue to glowing gold, a flicker of blue running across her skin. 

“This isn't a good start for a relationship, future brother-in-law,” she said, the gold sinking back into the blue like it never happened. Erik let go of her. “Since we both want the same thing, you could just hand me the phone instead wasting time to this bullshit.”

“Good choice,” Erik said and left the room, slamming the door shut just in time before he threw up again in the trash can Janos held for him. His stomach was empty, and he just heaved over and over, his muscles strained and aching. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Erik said, straightening up. Janos patted his shoulder and held a glass of water for him.

“Did you get the location? You need your alpha here, or soon you will think back and wish you were only vomiting,” Azazel said. He stood behind Janos, more worried now than amused. Janos nodded and glanced back at him, some information passing between them, a dark shadow crossing Janos' face. 

“He claimed you in a public place. Shaw will know, sooner or later,” Azazel said, stating the obvious.

“And you realized that just now? You are getting slow on your old age,” Erik said, sipping the water carefully. His throat hurt. “Take a phone to the girl, she'll call the brother, go snatch him up.”

“And the bartender?”

“Her too. I want to know why Emma threw her in my lap. This whole mess reeks of that manipulative bitch.”

For a moment Azazel looked like he was about to comment on that, but he wisely decided not to, and slipped in the pantry. Muttered sounds came through the door. Erik didn't particularly care what Azazel said to her, as long as he didn't touch her. Janos stared at him with a worried look. 

“What?”

Janos gestured his chest, closed his hand to a fist and opened it again, a mimicry of an explosion.

“I'm not having a heart attack. Stop that,” Erik said, annoyed with his insistence to look after him at the moment. Janos had never done that before. “I'm fine. Azazel will bring him here, and we can sort this out. This shit won't kill me.”

Janos looked uncertain. 

***  
Emma Frost watched the bouncer cry, big heaving sobs. She arched her eyebrow at him and the man crashed to the floor, curling into a ball like a child afraid of the dark. 

”Pathetic,” Emma said aloud and turned to look at the rest of the crew. They tried to back away, avoid getting in the center of her attention, but there was nowhere to hide from her. ”I'm going to ask this again. Where is Angel?”

”A man took her,” a waitress said, her voice shaking. There were few nods, some more from relief than real knowledge of what happened. 

”Tall, dark hair, might worn a leather jacket?”

”No. He had a shirt, purple I think, and no jacket. He was with a blonde woman, might be his sister. And he had an accent.”

”What kind of accent?”

”I don't know. British?”

Emma tapped her long nails on the counter, thinking. Who could've moved on Angel before Erik had the chance? She hadn't counted on that. Emma looked at the waitress. Something swam at the edges of her mind.

”What aren't you telling me?” Emma asked, her voice like cotton candy filled with razorblades. The waitress started to shake and the other backed away again, even though there were practically against the wall already. 

”There was a fight...”

***  
Angel propped her shoulder under Charles arm, trying to keep him on his feet. She had hauled enough drunks to know the trick how to take the dead weight. 

“The phone...” Charles said, and Angel fished the phone out of his pocket. She looked at the screen. 

“Unknown number.”

“I'm going to throw up,” Charles warned and Angel turned him around in a flash, the phone rattling down the ground in process. Angel helped him to lean over the trash can. Angel stared up at the night sky and sighed. 

“I'm not equipped to deal with this. Should I take you to the hospital? They can give you drugs that blankets the bond. You know. If you think it's a mistake.”

“No. I need the bond to find my sister,” Charles said, leaning against the trash can. 

“You mean you need it to find Lehnsherr. If you feel like this, you can bet he feels it tenfold,” Angel said, picking the phone from the ground. “It will blow over. It's safety valve of sorts, so you two have to keep migrating to each other. When my alpha claimed me, I tried to make a run for it. I ended up in the department store restroom, my legs cramping so bad that I couldn't get up anymore. I laid on the floor, crying. My alpha wasn't happy feel that with me.”

“I'm sorry,” Charles said, straightening up. “That you had to go through something like this. And the puking, sorry about that too.”

“I'll go buy you a bottle of water.” 

Angel walked toward the food truck, punching a phone number and pressing 'call'. She left a quick message to the answering machine before closing the phone. She slipped the phone to her pocket and returned to Charles with the water.

***  
“No answer. Then the phone went dead,” Azazel said. “The girl gave me the name of the hotel, but Charles hasn't returned there, I checked. They are in the wind.”

“Charles?” Erik asked, the nausea settling down for a moment. He still rather sat than stood though, even if it looked weak. 

“That is your alpha's name. Hold on to it, you might get a glimpse where he is. Ask the earth to tell where he walks.”

Janos frowned disapprovingly and Azazel shrugged. “I'm not mocking him. The saying doesn't translate well. Besides, you did it too, remember? It didn't matter where I went, this little whirlwind was only a day behind. He was very single-minded in his pursuit.”

Janos blushed and shook his head, waving his hand to brush this matter aside. Before Azazel had time to say anything else about it, the phone in his hand rang. Azazel shoved it at Janos who in turn shoved it at Erik. 

“Yes?” Erik answered, then coughed to clear his voice and tried again. “Who is this?”

“Have you lost something?” 

“Emma. I fucking knew it. You created this mess, didn't you?”

“You sound a bit testy. Is your tummy upset?” Emma asked, sounding sweet. 

“You have him,” Erik said. Azazel and Janos turned to look at him in tense silence. “Where are you?”

“I'm looking at him, he is heaving into a trash can on a street corner. Cute. If you like that. Personally, doesn't do anything for me,” Emma said, and Erik heard the sound of traffic in the back ground. Outside, near a busy street. That didn't narrow it down much. “ I will give you the location, free of charge,” Emma continued. 

“No.”

“No? Interesting choice. May I ask why?” Emma asked, sounding genuinely surprised. 

“Because you never do anything without ulterior motive. I want to know what kind of hook you are about to sink in me before I accept.”

“How rude. Oh well. I do have a teeny tiny request.”

“Spit it out,” Erik said, squeezing the phone, willing himself not to destroy the metal inside the thing. This little piece of plastic and wire was his only connection to Charles. He didn't belief Azazel's story about how Janos had followed him around the world. He knew a fairy tale when he heard it. 

“The bartender. I want you to work your line of persuasion on her, ask a few questions, break a few fingers, that sort of thing.”

“Why? Do it yourself. I've seen what you can do with a pair of pliers.”

“Oh, I just had manicure. And not that it is any of your business, I have made a promise not to touch her. Rather inconvenient, but then it occurred to me that you haven't made any promises to anyone.”

Erik thought about the suggestion. It seemed simple, but he had learned the hard way that nothing was simple with Emma Frost. He had the scars to prove it. Still, he wasn't feeling right, and that there was a simple solution for this. Emma wasn't asking much. He had intended to do a number on the bartender anyway to find Shaw, so it would all work beautifully.

“I'll do it. Where is he?”

***  
Angel handed him the water and Charles sipped it carefully. The headache had subsided and Charles felt a distant wave of relief that wasn't his own. He tried to lock into it, but the feeling slipped through his hands.

“I think I'm feeling him. He feels...I don't know. Different. Something changed.”

“Maybe your sister told him where to find you,” Angel suggested. “That's good. If you feel him, you can find him. And you really need to find him, soon.”

Charles sipped the water again, trying so hard to focus on that frail thread of emotion that he didn't care about the other things. How Angel's mind had shifted from original panic pattern to decisive and centered shape, or how another telepath stood across the street, staring at them. He only cared about the distant feel of his mate. He was out there, but Charles just couldn't pinpoint the exact place. Then the feel turned fainter still, dissolving slowly like sugar melting into coffee. 

There was a sudden flash, a big red demon stared down on him with bright yellow eyes, Angel screamed and then, a yank and the world swirled.

***  
Erik got up from the floor, leaning against the wall for support. Janos moved to help him, but Erik shooed him away. 

“I'll be in my room. When they get here, the sister can leave if she likes, but the bartender can't. Don't kill her, Frost wants something from her. I'll start working on it when Charles is done.”

Janos looked at him. Erik couldn't decipher the emotions this time. Pity was there, he knew that one, he had seen it on Janos face so many times now that it felt etched to him. There was something else too, anger or fear, he wasn't sure. 

“I'll be fine,” Erik said, just in case it would make any difference. He didn't know what Janos was afraid off, but that was the best he could do at the moment. 

Erik walked slowly, because his bones felt brittle like chalk, his muscles loose and wet like he was filled with water. Pain kept shooting up his side, the once broken ribs aching again. Erik tried to ride the wave, allow the pain flow through his body and not hold on to it. It was a trick that he had learned a long time ago. He closed the door but left it untouched so anyone could open it. He undressed on his way to the bathroom, turned the water on and stepped in the shower. He washed up, quick and efficient, keeping his mind empty and blank, ignoring the pain crawling under his skin. He had survived this before, he could survive this again. 

Erik stepped out of the shower, dried up and walked back to the bedroom. He looked at his clothes and tried to decide if there was a point to put them on again. He only had one set of fresh clothes left. 

He could stay naked, to speed things up. Then again, it was an another level of satisfaction and control for Charles, if he could order him to undress himself, or simply tore the clothes off. Erik considered for a moment and finally put on the pair of pants and nothing else. It was a good compromise. 

Then Erik sat down on the bed and waited. 

***


	2. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody's night turns from bad to worse.

***

Charles couldn't believe it. His mind simply refused to accept what happened. At one moment he was on the street, and in a blink of an eye he was in his own hotel room. He didn't realize it was his hotel room at first. He tumbled backwards when the demon released his hold on his arm and crashed against the bed and the shirts he had tried on earlier scattered to the floor with him. 

The demon didn't let go of Angel. Her eyes were closed but Charles felt the slight buzz of her mind. She was only unconscious, not dead. That was good. Charles pushed up, slowly, trying not to make any sudden moves. The demon's mind was liquid blackness, sticky and heavy like oil. Charles didn't want to touch it. 

“Who are you? What do you want? What have you done with my sister?”

“I'm going to take you to your mate. I thought you would like to change first. That shirt...Hm,” the demon said, glancing at him head to toe. “Not a good first impression.”

“You kidnapped me to judge my shirt choice?” Charles asked, trying to get his bearing in this conversation. Nothing made any sense here. “Maybe you could let the girl go? Please?” Politeness never went to waste. Maybe that applied to demon's as well. If he even was a demon. Were there such species? A hysterical laughter bubbled in his throat, but Charles made a real effort to keep it down. 

“No. She comes with us,” the demon said, and pointed at one of the shirts on the bed, the midnight blue one that Charles had deemed too somber only two hours ago. “Change into that one. Your skin is pale and your eyes are blue. It will suit you.”

“I...I don't understand.”

“You can't understand my words?” 

“Yes, I can, it's that...What is this? Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” With every question Charles voice rose. This absurd conversation was too much to handle at the moment. 

Demon frowned. “You are emotional. That is not good.”

“I think I have every right to be emotional! I found out I'm an alpha, I've lost my mate, my sister was taken, by you I might add, then I'm taken, you again, only to talk about my wardrobe! I'm calm, considering that this is the worst night of my life!” 

“I will take you to your sister and your mate when you have cleaned up,” the demon said and pointed at the shirt again. “Stop arguing. That one.”

Charles weighted his options. He didn't have many moves here. He could see the hilt of the sword strapped on his back, the tail, his size and posture. All indicated that he would know how to fight in hand to hand combat. A rugby tackle wouldn't do any good here. Angel was unconscious, Raven was in this demon's possession and his mind was too alien for any mental trickery. Charles knew that in the best case scenario telepathy wouldn't work, in the worst case scenario he would end up frying his own mind. 

Charles picked up the shirt the demon wanted him to wear. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

The demon shrugged. “If you try to escape, I will hunt you down and tie you up like a calf.”

Charles nodded, and threw one more worried glance at Angel. 

“The girl is fine,” the demon said and Charles tried to look like he believed that. He went to the bathroom and pushed the door half-way closed and started to undo the buttons. The shirt he had on was in a bad shape, so demon might have a point there, as ridiculous as it was. He tried to be quick, changing the shirt, brushing his teeth and running a comb through his hair. 

It was strange, but these mundane things made him feel calmer, more in control. This would turn out fine. He would find Raven. He forced himself to believe it. 

When he was ready, he opened the door and stepped back in to the room. The demon stood there like he hadn't moved since Charles closed the door. Angel was still unconscious, but breathing well. Demon looked him over.

“Better. Do your best. Erik needs the best,” he said, and then looked a bit apprehensive, like he hadn't intended to say that. “Just be...careful.”

Before Charles had a chance to ask what that might mean, the demon grabbed a hold of him and once again, the world swirled.

***  
Emma stood on the curb and stared at the telepath puking in the trash can. He didn't look like much, but Emma had heard about him. Everyone had heard about him. 

Telepaths were, by nature, more curious than a bunch of cats. Emma knew a plenty about Charles Xavier, even though she had never met him in person. He was a wild card, and she had no idea how to use him to her advantage. 

Emma tapped her nail against the lid of her phone. Angel seemed well, that little tart. Emma saw her make a call, then slipping the phone into her pocket. Emma didn't need two guesses about who she called. 

She wasn't sure what was the best way to play this. Erik was a stone-cold professional, but mating could throw anyone out of balance. Charles looked like the type of man who would have some petty ethical rules about torture, and he would impose such attitude on his omega as well.   
It wouldn't do. 

Emma watched Azazel slap Angel, and she smiled at that. She had always liked him. If only she had a lieutenant like that, things would be so much easier. But Azazel refused to leave Erik's side. That was rather frustrating. Then again, Emma was sure Azazel would see this through, even if Erik was too lust stricken to think straight. 

There was still things to do before the night would be over. Emma turned around and walked to her car.

***  
“Where is my brother? And that creep with a tail?” Raven asked, staring at Janos as he flipped through the channels of the old tv. 

Janos glanced at her and nodded at the note pad she held. It read: 'your brother is coming here' and 'you are free to leave'. The first sentence meant that Raven couldn't do the second. 

“That asshole better not hurt my brother. I mean it.”

Janos flashed a smile, like Raven amused him a great deal, before turning back to flip through the channels. He stopped on the weather channel, staring at the little clouds floating around the map of the area. He snickered at the screen. 

Raven didn't know what to do. She didn't want to stay here with a man who had duct-taped her into a chair, but Charles would eventually wind up here, there was no doubt about that. If she left, Charles would be alone in here. Not that she knew how to get Charles out of here. Before she could make up her mind, there was the crackle of air and suddenly Charles stood in the room, the devil holding his arm. He had the unconscious bartender flung over his shoulder. He let go of Charles, and Raven rushed to him, hugging him tight. 

“Charles! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Wait. Did you change your shirt?” 

Janos threw a look at Azazel who smiled at him, tail swishing back and forth. Raven saw him roll his eyes before turning back to the television. It was odd and cute at the same time. Raven stared at Charles more closely. He looked sick. 

“Are you alright?” Raven asked again, squeezing his arm. 

“I'm fine. Are you? They didn't hurt you?”

“I'm good, but you don't look well. And that girl, why...” Raven started to ask but before she had a chance to finish, the devil nudged Charles toward the door.

“You have seen your sister. Now go. He waits for you.”

“I'll be happy to, as long as you let the girls go. You don't need them, they are all innocent in this,” Charles said, and Raven could see how he struggled to stay calm. Raven tried to hold her mind steady, hiding all the fear deeper. Her panic in top of his would be disastrous. 

“Your sister is free to go at any time. And this one? You don't know her. You are no judge of her innocence,” the devil said, his tail swishing. “Janos, take this woman.”

Janos slipped the remote to his jacket pocket and walked past them, taking the unconscious girl into his arms. Janos arched an eyebrow, a clear question mark. The devil shrugged.

“I don't care where you put her,” the devil said and grabbed a hold of Charles arm. “I'll take him to Erik.”

Raven held Charles hand, but he pulled himself free from her grasp. “It will be alright, Raven, calm down. I have to go.”

“No, you don't,” Raven said to his back. “Charles!” 

He didn't turn to look at her. 

***  
The moment he arrived in the house, his mate's presence filled his every sense. It was hard to concentrate. He sensed nothing but him. Charles tried. He tried as hard as he could to appear normal, but his hard-earned self-control slipped more with every passing second. He was sure that Raven wouldn't understand it, not this feeling. She thought she knew what it was like, but she had no idea. 

But the demon knew. He kept glancing at him, ushering him out of the door, and Charles was grateful for that. Demon's mate knew as well. Charles saw the connection between them. It was clean and focused, their understanding of each other flowing between them in absolute clarity. Charles had never witnessed anything quite like it. 

Charles wanted to run to his mate right this second, but he fought the urge. He had the responsibility to take care of Raven, and Angel too. Charles could sense Raven's emotions, even though she tried to hide them from him. Any other day she would've succeeded, but now everything kept shining through, like his senses had jumped to an another level. 

Charles wasn't sure what to do. He had walked into this without a plan. Or rather, with one plan: finding Erik and then getting them all out of this mess. Charles knew that he could influence Erik's mind, but he hadn't realized how much Erik could influence him back. He filled his mind completely, and he wasn't even in the room. Charles didn't know if he could get them out of here save and sound, but he had to try. 

“I'll take him,” the demon said and grabbed his arm again. His hold was careful, respectful even and Charles tried to hide his surprise. Raven's emotions flared up, crawling and biting on his skin like ants. Charles pulled his hand free from her grasp. 

“Calm down, please. I'm fine, you have to go,” he tried to say to Raven, but the demon pulled him out the door and into the hallway and Charles couldn't hear what she replied. 

The demon led him forward, and even though it made no sense, Charles was glad that he didn't have to do the walk alone. 

“I'm sorry. What's your name?” Charles asked.

“I'm Azazel.”

“Please to meet you,” Charles said, stumbling a bit on the stairs. Azazel stopped him from falling and pushed him forward. 

“You are a very strange human,” Azazel said. “Here. Good luck,” he added, stopping in front a closed door. Charles would've known it was the right one. He could smell Erik everywhere. 

“Thank you.”

Azazel nodded and with that he vanished. Charles stared at the door for a moment, considering if he should knock or not. The earlier urgency to be with Erik turned into apprehension. He didn't know this man and if the things Angel had said were true, maybe it was better that he would never know him. Charles took a deep breath and opened the door. 

What he saw made him wish he had knocked first. 

Erik paced back and forth in the large bedroom, wearing only pants, bare footed and bare-chested. The amount of skin visible made Charles sigh first, and then hurriedly close his eyes. He slapped his hand over his closed eyes as an added precaution. 

“I'm sorry. I should've knocked,” Charles said and then wished that he hadn't said that. He had imagined this moment so many times but never like this. Not that he was the alpha, and his mate stood in front of him half-naked before they were even properly introduced. That was not how this was supposed to go. 

Charles heard Erik stop pacing. He was sure Erik stared at him, but he couldn't drop his hand or open his eyes. He was afraid he would jump him like a rabid beast if he did. 

“You should look. Or you won't know if I'm good enough to mate.” 

His voice was tight, and Charles felt the fledgling bond between them coil from tension.

“Hello. I'm Charles,” he said, because that was all that popped into his head. It wasn't the smoothest line, but he couldn't think anything else.

“I don't care what your name is. Let's get this over with.”

Charles didn't want to read Erik's mind without permission, so he had to look at him to see what he was thinking. Charles dropped his hand carefully and opened his eyes. He made sure to keep his eyes locked to his and not glance down. It was a challenge, but he tried. Erik was handsome. His heart made an unsteady skip.

It was even harder to keep his eyes up, when Erik unzipped his pants and slipped his hands under the waistband, ready to pull them down. Charles stared at him in stunned silence for a moment before waving his hands to stop him.

Erik stopped. 

”Let's get this over with?” Charles repeated. 

Erik nodded, hands still under the waist band. ”So you can be on your way.”

”On my way?”

”Does your mutation have something to do with parrotry? Your sister didn't specify. If not, that's annoying.” 

”No, I’m a...” Charles bit his tongue and turned to stare at the walls, the floor, anywhere else but his naked chest and hands. ”Please explain what you mean?” 

”You fuck me, we get this hormonal bullshit out of our systems, everything returns to normal and you can leave. No harm done,” Erik said. 

Charles stared at him horrified. Erik could have punch him and it would have hurt less than that. 

“We won't do that,” Charles said with as much certainty as he could gather, suffocating the primal instinct that kept insisting that Erik was right. ”Absolutely not.”

“What?” Erik asked sharply. 

“You don't love me, I don't think you even like me. And I certainly don't love you at the moment.”

“You claimed me and sex is the follow-through. It’s a simple biological thing, no need to make it any more complicated than what it is.” 

“I can't. I won't. Not like this,” Charles said and stared up, trying to stay calm. “And please dress now. This is awkward.“

“If you don't want to fuck, what do you suggest we do? Or are you going to just turn around, walk out and leave me suffer in this pain that gets worse every goddamn minute?” Erik asked, ignoring his request, his voice tense. “I misjudged you. You only look like a decent person, but you aren't, is that it?” 

“I am decent, that is exactly why I can't do it. Not to you, not against your will.”

“I'm asking you to do it,” Erik said. “I can beg, if it pleases you more.”

Before Charles has time to comprehend the suggestion, Erik dropped down to his knees in front of him, staring at him in a way that made Charles want to bounce him, hell with the consequences.

Charles reached to pull him back to his feet but hesitated at the last moment, his hands hovering over his warm, naked skin. He had to take a step back.

“Please stand up. I don't want you to beg,” Charles said, crossing his hands. He didn't trust himself to keep away from him. “You don't understand. I'm a telepath.” 

Erik froze. 

Then he straightened up and zipped his pants, before walking at the other end of the room, the bed between them like a no man's land. Charles stared at the floor, trying to reel in all his raging emotions, and keep out the ones that seeped through the bond. Charles was frustrated, but Erik was angry, and most of all, frightened. Those weren't the emotions Charles wanted to feel from his chosen mate.

“Sex is never a simple biological thing for me. What you suggest, that...That would feel like pouring acid inside my skull. Do you understand what I mean? You can't fake your way through it. It would be painful and humiliating, for both of us.”

”Do you read me now?” Erik asked, crossing his arms, a defensive stance. He looked far too pale and he leaned on the window sill for support. Charles wanted nothing more to rush over to support him, but he forced himself to stay still.

”No,” Charles said. “Think whatever you want. I can sense some things from you, but that's the bond between us, not me. I would like you to trust me on this matter, but if you can't, you can't.”

“I trust you,” Erik said.

“Are you saying that to see if I read you and know its a lie?” Charles asked and smiled. “Everybody tries that.”

“Maybe,” Erik said, and flashed a quick smile. “Maybe not.”

The smile caused a sudden flood of lust slam at him. Charles tried to stay focused on the real problem. Erik was in pain and Charles could both see it and feel it. 

Azazel had advised that he should be careful, and now Charles started to see what he meant. And Erik was right in a way. The physical contact would stabilize the bond between them and help ease the discomfort. He remembered reading about the ideal bond formation and mating rituals, and there had been extensive studies about the possibility that any type of skin contact would help form the bond, even though sexual contact was the most effective.

“I didn't plan to abandon you. I think we should touch. I've read about it,” Charles said, taking a hesitant step further into the room. Erik stayed still, but he tensed slightly. “Skin contact could help with the pain. We could try something that isn't too intimate.”

“Like what?”

“I could hold your hand? That's quite neutral,” Charles said, thinking possibilities. “Or maybe a hug? People do that all the time.”

“I don't.”

“It would relieve the pain for the time being, and it wouldn't hurt me in process,” Charles suggested, inching closer. Erik didn't either see it, or he didn't care. Charles took an another careful step forward.

“It doesn't solve the problem,” Erik said, pushing away from the window sill. Charles noticed the way his hands shook. “Hugging won't make me love you, if that's what you need to get this done.” 

“Well no, but it might help with the symptoms, buy us more time to think something else. Do you want to give it a try?”

“You are in charge,” Erik said and Charles took that as a yes. 

Erik stood still when Charles approached him. He focused to keep his mental shields up, and only after he was sure he could hold it like so, he wrapped his arms around Erik's waist. Charles used every inch of self-control he had left to do it slow and careful, not to startle him. He imagined that Erik was a chemical bomb, and that the slightest jolt would cause him to explode. 

Erik was tall, and Charles was suddenly faced with the dilemma how to place his head. The skin contact was the key, so he had to press against him, otherwise this was pointless. Charles wanted to press his cheek against the warm, bare curve of Erik's chest, bit and lick every inch of skin he could reach, but he knew that was not a good idea.   
Chemical bomb. Big jolt.

So instead Charles splayed his hands wide across his back, and pressed against him in a polite, yet intimate way. Touching his naked skin, but trying hard to make it appear that it wasn't that big of a deal. Erik didn't object but he didn't raise his hands to touch him back. He simply stood there like a statue. 

Charles could feel the shape of his thoughts, floating past like clouds across a blue sky. Nothing specific, only distant and fleeting expressions, shapeless and unfocused. Charles concentrated on the faint sound of his heart, the smell of his skin cascading over him. It made his mouth water. 

“Have you...Have you ever gone to heat?” Charles asked. It was a dangerous but important question, one that he had the right to ask. Erik was silent for a long time, and Charles started to worry that he had crossed the line after all. Then Erik moved his hand slightly, brushing his elbow before returning to his solemn stance. 

“I have. Once. You?”

“Not personally, no. But I have felt it, through others. Was yours...enjoyable?”

“No.”

A shadow swam in the depths of Erik's mind, a slice of it breaking the surface before sinking back out of sight. Charles felt a ghost pain in his left rib, a strange shattering feeling of the bones snapping, puncturing something inside. Charles held the alien pain at arm's length, creating a mental line to keep it out. 

“I'm sorry,” Charles said when the ghost pain vanished. 

“You weren't there. What do you care?”

“I can feel your pain.”

Erik tensed up again, trying to take a step back and pull away, but Charles didn't let him go. 

“Erik, what's wrong?”

“You said you wouldn't read my mind!”

“I'm not, it's the bond. I can feel your pain like it's happening to me. I'm not looking into you. There is a difference,” Charles said, trying to explain something he had never had to put into words before.

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Do you feel that I'm lying to you? The bond works both ways, even if you don't want to use it or accept it.”

Erik said nothing, but he didn't try to pull free either. 

“Don't look into that memory.”

“I won't. Do you feel better? The pain, I mean,” Charles asked, pressing a bit closer to him, now that he wasn't so reluctant to be touched. “My headache is gone,” Charles added, realizing that it was true. 

“Yes. I... It's better,” Erik said, leaning down to him hesitantly. It took Charles a second to realize what he aimed at, and then he simply stared at him surprised. Erik stopped before they touched, like he was unsure if he could do it or not.”I want...”

“A kiss? Would you like me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

Charles had practiced self-restraint his whole life. It was a second nature to him and he was skilled at it, but this pushed even his limits. The urge to bite Erik again was so strong that he could feel his teeth sharpening. Charles didn't give in to that impulse. Instead he leaned to kiss him as careful and respectful as he could manage. Erik was incredibly warm. Charles pressed his lips against his, and at that moment, the house shook in the force of an explosion.

***  
Raven stood in the living room with Janos and the unconscious bartender and wondered what had been the exact moment when this night had taken a turn. The comfort of alcohol started to fade, and it dawned on Raven that she might be out of her head with this one. She squashed that nagging fear, and considered the situation. 

The structure of the group was clear. Charles' mate was the leader, the demon in first command and then Janos, who obeyed their every word. Raven deduced that she was fine where she was. The other two wouldn't lift a finger against her without an order, and the only one who could give the order was busy spreading his legs for her brother. The bartender didn't have that advantage. They would have no problem hurting her. 

Raven looked as Janos dumped the unconscious woman in the corner. It wasn't nice, but it certainly wasn't the worse thing he could've done. When Janos let go of her, something clattered on the floor. 

“That's Charles' phone,” she said and picked it up. “Why does she have it? Charles never lets this thing out of his hands.” 

Janos made a gesture of pulling something out of his jacket pocket, flipping his hand like he hid something in his palm. 

“She stole it? No, that can't be. You can't steal from a telepath. Charles would've known.”

“Known what?” Azazel asked from the door, walking back in the room, his tail swishing slowly back and forth. Janos did a quick movement, too complicated for Raven to understand, and Azazel nodded. “Why is the phone important?”

“What do you want from this woman anyway?” Raven asked in turn, opening the phone and punching in Charles' pin code, the one he thought she didn't know. It was cute. 

“She knows something,” Azazel said, a perfect explanation that explained nothing. He opened the buttons of his black jacket and took it off. Janos took the jacket from him, folded it and placed it on the empty bookshelf. “And we need to know what she knows,” Azazel added and started to roll up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. 

“Wait, wait. You don't have to hurt her, you know. She did something with the phone, I'm sure of it. Why else would she have it?”

“My method is faster,” Azazel said, his tail swishing again. Janos nodded pointedly. 

“And mine is more reliable. Humans lie. Phones, not so much,” Raven argued and Janos turned to Azazel, touching his arm to make him look at him, then there was a silent conversation that Raven didn't follow. She kept flipping through the phone, to find what the bartender had done with it. 

“Fine. Janos thinks you're special, and I trust his instinct on these matters,” Azazel finally said, and Raven looked up surprised. 

“Oh? I bet he says that about all the girls he duct tapes to a chair,” Raven said and smirked before turning back to the phone. 

“Woman, you got two minutes,” Azazel said and it didn't sound like a joke. 

Raven went through the most obvious things, text message log and the phone log. Nothing unusual in the text messages. She found the two unanswered incoming calls from her. After those there was one more call out. She turned the screen to show them.

“What if she called someone? When someone attempts to kidnap you and smacks you around, you want to call someone who will help you, right? She could've borrowed the phone, but she took it and kept it. Why? Because she didn't want anyone to know where she called.”

“Or she likes to steal electronic devices,” Azazel said, looking bored. “We should slap her awake and see what she has to say.”

“Wait, I still have a minute left. Let's try this.” Raven pressed the button, the phone redialing the number. She switched to the speaker mode, the phone ringing three times before the call connected. 

_“Angel? I got your message. Where are you?”_

Janos froze and stared at the phone like it had turned poisonous snake in Raven's hand. Azazel gestured for her to close the phone. Raven shook her head and concentrated for a split second to her throat, recalling the pitch and cadence of the bartender's, or Angel's, voice. 

“I'm not sure where I am,” Raven said. She didn't imitate, she performed Angel's voice as it was. Janos stared at her surprised, and Azazel looked even more dazzled. Raven shrugged at them, and Azazel made a gesture to go on. 

_“Baby, are you hurt?”_

“No, I'm fine, I'm...” Raven looked at Azazel, unsure what they wanted her to say. He pointed at the real Angel in the corner, then at the room. Raven shook her head, she didn't understand that. The silence got too long, so she went with the first thing that came her mind. “I'm...I'm in a house. I don't know where.”

Azazel looked exasperated but Janos waved, pointing at the phone and the voice at the other end, did the same gesture toward the room as Azazel had done. “Where are you?” Raven asked, and both men nodded at her. 

_“I don't know who you are bitch, but you will be sorry you got mixed up in this. Azazel, are you listening? Get ready. I'm going to cut your boyfriends throat with your own sword right in front of you. We will have fun, I promise you.”_ Then the phone went dead. Raven hadn't thought it was possible, but Azazel had gone pale, his eyes empty black holes. Janos shivered like a leaf in a wind. Azazel reached to touch his arm. 

“He won't lay a finger on you. Not as long as I'm alive.” 

Janos nodded, squeezing his hand. Raven suspected that he put up the brave front for Azazel's sake. She couldn't blame him for being afraid. The man on the phone had sounded like he meant every word he had said. 

“I'm sorry,” Raven said carefully. “Who was that?”

“That was Shaw. He is the man we have hunted for months now, or who has been hunting for us. It's not always clear who hunts who in this game,” Azazel said quietly, still looking at Janos. “Sounded like the fight will come to us.”

“How did he know I wasn't her? I was spot on, damn it!” Raven said, staring at the phone annoyed. “No one can tell the difference.” 

“You missed a code word somewhere. Shaw loves all that complicated spy crap,” Azazel said and let go of Janos. “I don't want to do this, but we have to tell Erik. Right now.” 

“Are you insane? They are both unbalanced hormone bombs at the moment, they'll frenzy from any added stress! You can't go in there,” Raven said and Janos nodded, agreeing with her. “What there is to tell? A phone call and bunch of empty threats? We don't even know where he is, he could be other side of the country for all we know.”

“He'll find me. He'll come here and kill you all!” Angel said from the corner, struggling to get up. “You'll be sorry you ever laid your hand on me! You'll see!” 

Janos turned and slapped her across the face, sending her sprawling back on the floor. Raven knew she should've felt bad about that, but she started to see the situation in a new light. 

Before anyone had a chance to say anything else, the doorbell rang. The bright, clear sound echoed through the empty house. Azazel reached for his sword, laid sheathed on top of his coat. 

The front door exploded in obliterating flash of energy. 

***  
Emma sat in her car and forced herself to calm down. Cold and unmoving like a winter's morning, that was what she was. She hadn't expected this. Shaw and Alex stood in front of Erik's house. Shaw said something and laughed, touching Alex's arm. 

Emma turned her eyes away, drawing a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She wouldn't scream. She just wouldn't. She was calm. Cold and unmoving like a winter's morning, like her sister always said. 

That was the thought she needed to focus on. Her sister, and the fact they were running out of time. She had to get her hands to Angel, and drag that stupid slut back where she belonged. She would've done it already, if she hadn't promised her sister that she would never harm Angel, or try to influence her in any way. She couldn't break that promise. 

And then there was Alex. Her Alex. Another mate Shaw has stolen, slashing the bond to ribbons. Angel had gone willingly, left her sister behind and breaking her heart with the bond. But Alex was gone because her own mistake, for leaving him unprotected and alone when he needed her the most. 

There was still a piece of bond left, thin and strong as a single thread of a spider's web. Emma was afraid to use it for it might break completely, but she could still sense Alex at the end of it, breathing, living, but empty, like all emotions had burnt away.

Another deep breath. Cold and unmoving. Winter's morning.

Emma watched Shaw rang the doorbell. Such a laughable thing to do but so like Shaw to do it, and how Alex blasted the door, leaving behind only the smoldering frames. 

Emma watched, and stayed calm. She would kill Shaw, and she would do it slowly, and she would enjoy every single, slow second of his death.

***  
The blast knocked Raven off her feet, and the shock caused her body to flutter out of her control for one, delirious moment. She focused to pull her own skin back until she felt solid again. It took time, and when she came back to it, she saw a tall, lean man standing in the middle of the room. He wore a white suit and smiled at them all, like he was here to host a dinner party. Angel rushed to his side and clung to his arm, staring at him adoringly.

“Angel, my clever girl! I knew you could find them for me,” the man said and Raven recognized the voice. This was Shaw. 

“Oh, I didn't even plan it. I saw the opportunity and swing it,” Angel said and the man smiled at her. It made Raven's skin crawl. Janos helped her up and slowly pushed her back, deeper in the corner. 

“And who is this young lady? The mimicker on the phone, I take?” Shaw asked, the movement catching his attention. “Hm, I've never had a shapeshifter before. I might have to play with you awhile, before killing you. Nothing personal, I hope you understand. I'm just curious.” 

Raven backed as far back as she could. Janos let go off Raven's arm and made a soft, flowing move that was cut short when Azazel grabbed his wrist. 

“Azazel, still so old-fashioned! Let your boy feed me one more time, what does it matter anyway? He was always my favorite snack,” Shaw said and laughed. Azazel looked furious but he didn't do anything, just stared at him, tail swishing back and forth in angry lashes. “What? You won't even try cutting me? Oh well, I don't need your feeble punches anymore. I've found something better.”

A young man, not much older than nineteen or twenty, walked in the room. He glanced at them with a cold indifference, before turning to stare attentively at Shaw. There was something hollow in him, something missing. 

“Alex here is my new protegé, and he had already proven to be much more promising than any of you. And so delicious,” Shaw said and smirked. “I could feast on him for days.” 

Janos gasped in disgust. Azazel tensed, still holding Janos' wrist. Raven saw the look on Angel's face when Shaw introduced the boy, and Raven almost felt bad for her. Alex was the new toy, Angel the old, and Raven could easily guess where this was headed.

Then the dots connected and ice cold fear skittered up Raven's spine. She had heard people like Alex, and she knew what Shaw was. A Collector. The ones that didn't want one mate of their own, but hunted the mates of others, destroying the true connection and feeding on the pain of it, then discarding them and moving on the next victim.

If you don't look after your mate, the Collector will take it.

***


	3. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where nothing turns out as planned and end comes unexpectedly.

***  
It didn't turn out like Erik had imagined. Charles walked in the room, so polite and nervous, refusing even to look at him, let alone touch him. The bond was forming, he could feel it growing inside him like a malicious tumor and Charles simply stood there, staring at him. Erik tried insulting him and nothing, he tried arguing him and nothing. He even begged and still nothing. 

Erik didn't understand it. Charles was the alpha. Instead claiming him, he wanted to have a conversation. When Erik was about to scream in pain and frustration, Charles hugged him.

It was such an alien sensation that for a moment Erik didn't understand what happened. Erik wanted to hug him back, to feel more of him, but he didn't remember how to hug someone. He felt awkward and clumsy standing there in Charles' embrace. He also felt save and that scared him. 

“Have you ever gone to heat?” Charles asked, speaking so close to his skin that it could count as a kiss. The question brought up painful memories, things Erik didn't want to think about now. If he thought that, then he thought of Shaw and after that, there was no room for any other emotions but anger and hate. Shaw and his endless fascination of alphas and omegas, studying, testing and destroying everything he touched. 

His memories were hazy and fragmented, but he knew more than what he remembered. When he had escaped, he had stolen Shaw's files. He knew about the tests done on himself, and about several others. Some died during the experiments, some would've been better off dead than living for an another second. Erik had survived, and Janos too in a way, but so many other hadn't. Erik tried not to think about it, but then in the middle of his thoughts was Charles presence, his touch and smell, curling all around him. Erik panicked and struggled against him, trying to push him away.

“Don't look into that! I don't want you to see!”

“Shh, shh... It's only the bond. I'm not looking into your mind. It's alright,” Charles said, patting his back, pressing against him. His touch felt so right, warm and sure. “You are safe, it's alright.”

It didn't hurt anymore, and Erik relaxed against Charles. He didn't plan it, it just happened. 

“The bond works, even if you don't use it,” Charles said. He sounded shy, hesitant. Erik wanted to kiss him. The impulse was so strong that he already leaned to do it before he realized that it wasn't right. Charles should kiss him, not the other way around. Charles understood his gesture and reached to meet him. 

“A kiss? Would you like me to kiss you?”

“Yes.” 

His kiss was shy and reserved. It was frustrating, and Erik didn't know what to do. It was if Charles was under thick glass, and Erik kept smashing against it, leaving no mark behind. The sound of explosion rattled the walls, and Erik pulled away, his instincts muddled from the bond but still functioning. 

They were under an attack. Civilians. The exit strategy B. 

“Go, out the window, across the back yard and don't stop until you hit the main road,” Erik ordered and pushed Charles toward the safest exit. 

“No.”

“What?”

“No. Be quiet,” Charles ordered and to his own surprise, Erik didn't even want to argue with him. Charles pressed his temple with his fingers, like he had a headache. He stood still for a moment, his free hand resting against his chest, holding him back. 

“There is an another telepath outside. She says you know her. Emma Frost?”

“For fuck's sake, that bitch is everywhere!” 

Erik tried to move to the door, but Charles frowned at him and Erik stopped again. 

“Quiet. She is not the one behind this. She gave me a visual from the front lawn. It's a man you are both after.”

“What? Shaw is here? Now?” 

“Yes. He threatens my sister, Emma can hear him,” Charles said and something cold flashed in his eyes. Erik liked it, the first crack on his smooth and sterile surface. “He is dangerous.”

“He is dead,” Erik said. “Let me go. Do you understand? I have to...”

“Of course I understand. But you have to stay put.” 

Shaw was here, he could kill him, right this second. Feel the wetness of his blood. Hear the sound of his bones breaking. Watch the life drain out of him, slowly, to make it last. For a moment Erik felt the vertigo of his own rage, the endless pit of darkness opening up underneath his feet. He wanted to dive into it, but he couldn't. Charles held him back. Not by force, but simply touching him, not breaking the connection. 

“Listen to me. Erik! Look at me. Are you listening?”

“Yes, I'm listening.”

“I _forbid_ you from destroying yourself.”

Charles words clanged in his ears, the force behind them undeniable. The need to agree and obey was stronger than his rage for Shaw. Erik fought it, pushing against Charles' will. It was like he tried to break a concrete wall with a wooden spoon. Erik didn't know if his feeble attempts even registered to him. 

“Do you understand me? I won't allow you to destroy yourself. That is out of the question, for good. I need you to accept that.”

Erik nodded. He didn't think about it, he just agreed. It scared him how easy it was to accept Charles' words. He had imagined killing Shaw a thousand times, but he had never imagined what would happen after that. There was nothing beyond that single, glorious moment.

Until now. 

***  
Emma stood outside, staying in the shadows. She had good view indoors through the smoldering hole where the door had been seconds ago. She watched Alex's back as he followed Shaw like a dog. He didn't look around. Emma sneaked quietly in the house after them, staying close to the wall. She could hear Shaw speaking in the living room and Emma bit her lip not to growl. 

Charles tapped against her mind, a polite gesture to announce his presence. She opened a slice of her mental shield. 

_“Who are you?”_ His mental voice was dry and clipped, a sign of firm control. 

_“I'm Emma Frost.”_ She showed him what she looked at. _“I'm after that man, Shaw. He's a Collector, and he has my mate in his hold. The girl Angel, she works with him. Erik is after him too, has been for years. He wants to kill Shaw, and he won't care what he have to sacrifice to do it.”_

_“How do you know?”_

_“How you don't know? Can't you feel his mind? I can taste his rage from here.”_

_“Don't touch him.”_

_“We are on the same side here. I want my mate back, you want to protect yours. Shaw's an energy feeder, in a worst possible way. I'm not strong enough to beat him alone, and I can't injure Alex, not even to save him, but you and me both, as a team...”_ Emma left the thought linger. There was a silence, and she started to believe that Charles had broken the connection. 

Emma moved further away from the door, looking for a way to get closer without being exposed. There was too much open space. She saw Azazel, and Janos, shielding the blonde girl in the corner. She showed it all to Charles, and she caught the worry in his mind. His sister. 

_“Can we beat Shaw without getting in the same room with him? Psychic attack?”_

_“I doubt it. He's a slippery bastard, and clever. He knows his own weak points. He might have items to block psychic attacks.”_

_“He's dangerous.”_ His mind turned cold and calculating. Emma took that as a good sign. 

_“That's putting it lightly.”_

_“And your mate? What of him?”_

_“He produces limitless amounts of energy for Shaw. Plasma. It's a catastrophic combination. Does your boy have his head back in the game? Mating urges in the middle of a fight will get us all killed.”_

_“I got a plan. Stay out of sight. I'll go in there, back me up when I make my move.”_

_“What move?”_

There was no reply. Emma stood still in the shadows, waiting.

***  
It wasn't easy to convince Erik that they had to work with Emma Frost on this. In Charles mind there was no way around it. She had to be taken account and it didn't matter if Erik trusted her or not. 

“It's her mate trapped in there. She has the same need to protect him as I have for you. I can't deny her the right.”

“I don't need your fucking protection! I've trained for this moment for years! I can take Shaw down on my own.”

“Your physical abilities seem adequate,” Charles agreed, still resting his hand on his chest even though it wasn't necessary. “It's your mind I'm trying to protect. You teeter on the edge and you don't even realize it.”

“I'm fine. I can handle this. You should get out of here.”

“No.”

Erik struggled again. His mind was a fortress, all gray and angular, serving only to keep things protected inside. There was cracks, and Charles knew that he could get through to him with time. He didn't have that luxury now. They had wasted enough time as it was. Every second Raven was more and more in danger. If Shaw was as dangerous as Emma's said he was, Charles had to have Erik's trust. Now. 

“I'm sorry,” Charles said quietly. “I didn't want to do this.”

“Do what?”

Charles grabbed his throat and pressed his thumb against the faint teeth marks. It was the deepest contact between them, the catalyst, and he used it to push the bond through. His telepathy was the needle, the bond the thread, and Erik's mind the fabric where to stitch the intricate pattern. He would trust him irrevocably. 

Erik staggered in his hold, but Charles didn't let go. He tried to do it fast, not to cause him pain. 

“I'm sorry,” Charles said one more time before glossing over his handiwork, hiding what he had done from Erik's conscious mind. Erik stared at him, eyes unfocused for a split second before he blinked and Charles released his hold. 

“You should put your shirt on,” Charles suggested, and Erik nodded in agreement.

Charles felt the depth of the bond in its entirety. Before his manipulation it had been a mere possibility, a shadow, an idea. Now it was reality. The bond pressed against his mind, heavy and full. Charles wanted to feel regret about what he had done, but he couldn't. It felt so right and perfect, everything he had ever wanted. It was for the right reasons. His duty as an alpha was to protect and defend his mate, wasn't it? 

“Do you know if Shaw can deter psychic attacks? Ms. Frost thinks that might be the case,” Charles asked, watching him closely. 

“It's possible. He is an arrogant bastard, but he knows his own weak spots. And he always has a back-up plan,” he said, buttoning up his shirt. He didn't look at him. 

“Then, we have to go in there.”

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling? Erik?”

“I'm fine. Let's go.”

He tried not to read too much into that. It was just the aftershock. It would fear off. 

Charles walked out of the room and Erik followed him without a word. The house was dark, but Charles didn't need his eyes to see Frost in the shadows. Her mind was cold and layered, sharp. He felt the flutter of curiosity from her, a slight sensation of shock and disbelief before she shielded herself again. She had seen what Charles had done to the bond, but he didn't care. He didn't need to justify his actions to anyone. He knew what he did and why, and that was enough. 

When Charles stepped in the room where Shaw held his court, he scouted the different minds before looking anything else. Raven's familiar feel in the far corner, out of sight behind Janos, who in turn was behind Azazel. His mind was a black space, a relief in its neutrality. There was the young man who Charles assumed was Alex, his mind an empty cloud of white noise. There was the reek of desperation from Angel, and above all, the slithering warmth of Shaw himself. He turned to look at them, smiling. 

“Ah, Erik! There you are! I was starting to wonder why you won't show up for our little get-together. But I can see why. Hm. This is your new master? So... _quaint_ choice.”

Charles could feel Shaw sniffing out the bond between them. He saw it too, not like Emma Frost had seen it, but still with the same sequence of curiosity, surprise and disbelief. Then, hunger. Charles saw it glaring from his face. Shaw was an energy feeder, a filthy vampire, and in his eyes their bond was mouthwatering, a five-star dinner. 

Charles tried to stay calm and centered, keep his impressions to himself. Erik didn't need any excess emotions from him. He already drowned in his own rage, sliding down fast in the dark hole inside his mind. Charles wanted the bond to be his lifeline, not the thing that would push him down. 

Shaw looked at him from head to toe, weighing him out. 

“I have to tell you Erik, your new master doesn't look like much. You should come back to me, I know how to satisfy your needs. All of them. Did you enjoy the carnage I arranged for you today?”

“If you have something to say, you can address me, not my mate,” Charles said coldly.

“Creating boundaries already, I like that,” Shaw said, smiling wider. “Erik has always needed a firm hand. Smack him around few times and you'll see. It makes all the difference.”

“I won't tolerate disparaging remarks either,” Charles said, walking a bit further in the room. Angel clung to Shaw's arm, a human shield. Charles separated her mental shape from his and what was left was a distorted jumble of meaningless images. A tipped puzzle in a box. 

Emma's mind flashed a warning to him. Charles returned an affirmative thought. Shaw had something that interfered with their abilities. 

“Disparaging? How precious. You might've marked him, but I made him. I tapped that bitch before you were old enough to tell a difference between alphas and omegas. Trust me, he is whatever I want him to be.”

“Mind your language,” Charles said, calm and relaxed. Everyone in the room stared at him. Charles tasted the acid flavor of shame seeping through the bond, and he smoothed it over, willing Erik to ignore Shaw's words. They meant nothing. 

“The warehouse. You were behind that attack. Why?” Erik asked suddenly. “What was the point? Amateurs with a few low-grade guns? I took them out in thirty seconds.”

“A little something for me to you. You haven't killed anyone since Argentina,” Shaw said. “And I wanted to see if you still drag these two with you. Azazel, stop that. Alex, do you mind?” 

Azazel had slowly pushed Janos and Raven back, all the way to the big windows at the far end of the living room. Charles noticed how Azazel tensed when Alex walked around Shaw, standing closer to them. Maybe he knew the boy, or he knew to expect the worst. Shaw smirked, noticing the same. 

“Did you already realize that you can't just teleport your little cutie out of here? It's interesting what you can buy from Vatican these days,” he said and took something from his pocket, a vial in a silver chain. He handed it to Angel who giggled and slipped the chain around her neck. 

Charles didn't know what it meant, but Azazel seemed to recognize the trinket. He stopped dead still, his eyes widening. Janos' mind turned into blind chaos of movement. Charles tugged Raven's mind reassuringly, and she in turn squeezed Janos' arm. Charles glanced at Azazel to signal him, forced Erik to focus on him and reached out to brush against Emma's mind. 

"Keep this up and you will have a big problem in your hands," Charles said. 

"You? Please."

"No. Her."

***  
Emma saw the difference in Charles the second they walked in the hallway. The bond was fully formed and alive between them. It wasn't possible. That didn't happen, not that fast, not that perfect. Not without tampering. 

Emma's skin crawled. If he would do that to his mate, what else he was ready to do? Erik stared at her as they passed, his mouth quirking in disgust. Emma bit her tongue to keep her thoughts to herself. Charles' alpha nature was surfacing, and she didn't want to test his new instincts by riling Erik. Not in a time like this. 

They walked in the living room together and Emma followed them, inching as close to the doorway as she dared. She watched Charles take control of the room, pulling Shaw's attention to him. Erik stood behind him, tense and expressionless. The rage radiated out of him in hot bursts and Emma couldn't believe Charles was as impervious to it as he seemed. 

When Charles brushed her mind as a signal, Emma moved fast. She shifted her hand to a diamond and lunged, not to Shaw but to grab Angel. She caught a fistful of hair and pulled as hard as she could. Angel toppled back, screaming in pain. Emma saw over Angel's shoulder how Azazel drew his sword against Alex and her heart dropped in horror. 

Azazel was quick, but he was still far too slow. Alex shot and missed, singeing Janos instead. He shrieked, a strange sound, his clothes caught on fire. Azazel roared and flung himself over Janos, rolling him on the ground to suffocate the flames. Raven moved past them and landed a beautiful, perfect kick on Alex's knee. He fell on his back with a heavy thump. 

Angel took advantage of the distraction and turned to claw her face, going for her eyes. Emma growled and slapped her, the girls head jolting in her hold. Her diamond nails lacerated Angel's scalp and blood poured down her face, blinding her. Emma wrestled her to the ground. She heard Charles call for his sister, and Emma looked up. 

Raven was too close to Shaw. He touched her shoulder and the girl flung back, smashing against the wall and dropping down the floor. She didn't move. 

"Alex," Shaw commanded and he shot him, the plasma burning bright red, the flickering light filling the room. Shaw glowed and reshaped under the burst of energy, drawing it inside himself. Emma knew they were all dead if Shaw would recharge. She slammed Angel's head to the floor, dazing her and crawled closer to Alex, reaching to touch his throat. She used everything she had left of their bond to reach him, break through the blank wall of his mind. The bond was so frail, burning away too quickly. It hurt so much and Emma cried, pushing and pushing.

The red light vanished. 

***

When Emma attacked, shifting Shaw's attention, Charles took a step back, pressing his fingertips against his temple. He retreated to his center, the calm empty place within himself. He tried to latch on to the pattern of Shaw's mind, but it kept sliding and slithering from his grasp. Something scrambled the telepathy. 

Charles had never felt anything like it. 

Shaw abandoned Angel as she lost her usage as a shield, and turned back to him. Charles clawed for a hold from the slippery surface of his mind and Shaw laughed. 

“Two telepaths? My lucky day. I'm going to enjoy killing you both.”

Charles caught a repeating image in his mind. A bead, a trinket. Something he didn't want Charles to know about.

“The metal, take it away,” Charles thought to Erik and he obeyed without a question, raising his hands and pulling. Shaw moved. Charles was out of his reach, Erik even further, but Raven wasn't. Alex fell to the ground and she stood over him, without realizing to back away again. 

"Raven, no!" Charles shouted, but it was too late. Shaw hit and she flung back, hitting her head and falling to the floor. 

“Alex!”

The boy shot Shaw squarely on the chest and he warped around the impact, feeding. Charles saw the opening, the interference lost in that roar of energy. He found Shaw's pattern; the distinctive shape of his mind and he grabbed a hold, nailing it down, binding it to immobility. 

It had never worked before, but now Charles had Erik's rage and the bond that made him stronger beyond belief. Shaw slowed down, his mind starting to blank but still he fought back. He turned the unshaped energy and unleashed it at their direction, then sucked it back to himself. 

Charles didn't understand what happened. His hold of him vanished. 

The bond changed. It was fluid first, brittle next, creaking under the strain. Charles saw Shaw's victorious smile as the bond snapped in half, the sound like dry twig breaking in two. One moment the bond was alive, the next it died, the remnants jutting out of him like pieces of splintered bone. 

Charles screamed in agony, crashing down to the floor. Objects moved in and out of his vision, Emma's outstretched hand pushing inside Shaw's chest, the sweep of Azazel's sword, the sickening crunch and gurgle when blood bubbled from the wound, Erik growling like a mad dog, metal flying everywhere. Charles couldn't keep up with it. More sounds that weren't human, then the warm splatter of blood raining down on him. Shaw fell. 

Charles looked in his eyes as his conscious shrunk, spiraling down to the black vacuum. The fading mental hold showed him the door opening inside Shaw's mind. There was relief behind that door, he knew it, an absolute truth. He could go there. He could fall down to that darkness, leave this pain. 

"No you can't," Emma said out loud, and Charles felt her nails press down on his shoulder. The pain was fresh, clear and it jolted him, his body recalling its duty to live. The destroyed bond pulsed and bled inside him, and he tried to struggle up, the world swimming in his eyes. 

"Help me," he thought to Emma before he lost consciousness. 

***  
Erik took a deep breath, the first free one of his life. 

Shaw was dead. 

Erik felt light, exhilarated, his heart thrumming fast. He took another deep breath, and kicked the corpse so hard that a bone crunched inside of it. Azazel did the same from the other side, snapping Shaw's head in an odd angle. 

Emma stare at the corpse.

"Son of a bitch. We should've done this slower, so I could've enjoyed it thoroughly," she said and leaned to wipe her bloodied hand on the white coat. "Ruined my manicure anyway."

Azazel followed her and wiped his sword clean the same way.

"We need to cut his head off," Erik said, thinking out loud. “To make sure.” 

Azazel shrugged and nodded, glancing back to Janos. He sat on the floor, his shirt a tattered mess beside him. His skin blistered where the fire had touched it. Erik knew it must hurt, but he didn't seem to even notice it. A second degree burns, he had been lucky. He held Raven's head in his lap, stroking her hair. He stared at Azazel, unblinking and demanding. 

"Janos wants to do it," Azazel said. "He has deserved the right."

Erik couldn't argue with that. Emma nodded and turned to her mate. He sat on the floor and looked around baffled, holding his knee. 

"Em?" he asked, his eyes swaying back and worth between them all, then to the body and he turned paler. "What happened?"

"My little darling," Emma said and helped him up to his feet. "You had a bit of an adventure. Don't worry, it's over now. I'll take you home."

The boy clung to her shoulder, leaning against her side. She wrapped her arm around his waist, kissing his cheek.

"You take the girl too?" Erik asked, nodding to her. She sat near the door, pressing her hand against the head wound and crying. “Or you still want me to do a number on her?”

“Thank you, I would like that, but she belongs to my sister and she should decide what she wants to do to with that treacherous whore,” Emma said. “My sister is a traditionalist, so I think little Angel here will get the living daylight beaten out of her. Speaking of, shouldn't you take care of your mate?”

Erik turned, realizing that he had forgotten about him. Charles laid on the floor, eyes closed and spattered blood flecking his pale skin. Erik tried to feel something about that, but there was nothing. The bond was gone, nothing left of it. Maybe a blunt ache that hadn't been there before, but it didn't bother him. Erik shrugged and looked at Janos and the girl.

“It's her brother. She can take care of him.” 

Emma frowned disapprovingly. 

“Smash that vial and I'll take them to the hospital,” Azazel said. “Then we move the body and burn the house.” 

Erik moved his hand, and the thin silver chain around Angel's neck snapped and the vial clattered on the floor, rolling around. Emma stopped it and crunched it under her heel. The glass smoked and popped, grumbling into black clump. 

“What was that thing?” she asked. 

“I had this fling back in a day, around the First Crusade. I tried to leave, and the woman came up with that stuff to keep me around. Didn't end well,” Azazel said and went to Janos, who stared at him coldly. “Of course she was a maggot compared to you, beloved,” he added hurriedly, leaning to kiss him. Janos allowed it, but didn't reciprocate. Instead he gestured at the girl, and Azazel picked her up from his lap like she weighted nothing. 

“I'll take them to New York. If Shaw has more crew left in Miami, they are not safe here.”

“Do as you like,” Erik said and crouched down to turn Shaw's pockets. Azazel walked past him, and wrapped his tail around Charles arm. He muttered something in a disapproving tone but Erik didn't care. He vanished with a snap. 

The pockets were mostly empty, expect for one object, made of some metal he didn't recognize. It looked like a tangled necklace, links of chain over and around small beads. He held it out to Emma. 

“Feel like anything to you?” 

She concentrated. 

“It scrambles your thoughts. I can see the shape of your mind, but it's all nonsense. Can I?”

Erik closed his hand around the thing.

“No. I think I'll hold on to this.”

***  
Charles woke up at the Emergency room when they stuck a needle in his arm. He tried to fight it, but the sedatives pushed him back to the unconsciousness. When he woke up again, he was in the ward. Raven sat next to his bed, reading something. Charles looked at the IV drip in his arm. He knew there was no cure for the slashed bond, nothing they could stitch up or plaster together. 

The drugs couldn't hide the truth. He had something gruesomely broken inside him, the jagged edges grinding against his flesh. He felt it. A gaping wound in his chest, his heart exposed and pulled out, flopping wetly against his ribcage. With every inhale he felt it more clearly, how his heart beat outside his body. He clawed his chest in desperate attempt to push the red, pulsing mass back inside.

"Please, calm down. It's not real, your chest is fine," Raven said. "Nurse! Nurse, get in here!"

After that they gave him different drugs, stuff that made him sleep without dreaming. The days started to mix together. He never knew if it was a morning or an evening when he woke up for a short moment, and then slept again. Raven was there every time he opened his eyes. After one foggy nap, she told him they were back in the Mansion. Charles didn't recognize the room and he told her so. She looked tired and sad. 

"Yes you do. It's been awhile since we've been here, that's all. When you feel a bit better, we can fly home to England."

"I'm fine," he said and tried to sat up. His hands didn't move and he flopped back against the pillow. "Raven? What's this?"

"You've been restless again. The night nurse strapped you down so you don't hurt yourself."

"Oh. I don't remember."

Raven held his hand, squeezing his fingers. Her mind was like a rainy afternoon, bleak and gray. 

"I'm feeling better now," he said. That sounded like a right thing to say. 

"That's good. Let's see how you feel tomorrow."

***  
Erik looked himself in the mirror. His chest was whole, same skin and muscle as always. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that something had cracked inside. He looked closer. No marks or scratches. He touched his chest. It was all normal in the mirror, his eyes told him that there was nothing out of place. He pushed his chest and he could feel his fingers sink inside the flesh with a loud squish. That wasn't possible. He pulled his hand away. His fingers felt wet, but there was no blood anywhere. 

“You know the wound won't disappear on its own, don't you? It only gets worse,” Azazel said from the door. He dried his hands into a towel, sleeves turned up. “Until you go back to your mate.”

“How's Janos?” Erik asked, without turning his eyes from the mirror. 

“Healing. There will be scars. He isn't thrilled about it.”

“He'll learn to live with them,” Erik said. “We all do.” 

Azazel scoffed, shaking his head at him. “You are a fool.”

“Why? Because I won't crawl back to him?” Erik asked and turned his back to the mirror, reaching for his shirt. “He has no hold over me anymore, and that's the way I like it. Everything will return back to normal now.”

“You don't understand, there is no return. It's decided, you are omega, now and forever. You can't hide it. When your heat comes...” 

“No,” Erik interrupted. “No heat. I won't accept that.”

“And when your heat comes,” Azazel continued unfazed, “without your mate you'll be an easy mark for any opportunistic alpha with a hard cock between their legs. You are not stupid. Think.” 

“The bond is gone, Shaw destroyed it! There is no connection, no magical bullshit between us. I have no mate and I'm not an omega,” Erik said, willing himself to believe his own words. 

Azazel shrugged. 

”If there is no connection left, then why do you cry?” 

Erik stopped and brushed his face. His fingers were wet, but it wasn't blood.

***  
Raven sat outside, the phone propped up against her ear and steaming mug of tea in her hands. 

“I wouldn't ask if there was any other way. He's slipping away. I don't know what else to do.”

_“I've tried. Erik doesn't listen what I say.”_

“Then say something different! Please, Azazel. You owe me one.”

There was a sigh at the other end of the line, a crackle, quiet words. Raven waited. 

_“Janos agrees with you. I'll try again.”_

***

Charles woke up, the pale light streaming in the room, pooling on the blanket. He glanced at his arm. The straps were still there but the IV was gone. He tested the restraints. There wasn't much slack and he rested back again. He felt alright, even with the straps still there. Something had changed.

There was a quiet sound on the far corner of the room and Charles turned, twisting his shoulder to lift his head. He plopped back against the pillows. 

“I still see you,” he said to the ceiling. "Usually you vanish when I wake up." 

He walked past the bed, out of his line of sight. 

"Feels like I'm awake now," Charles said, mostly to himself. “But drugs they give me make me see things.” 

It wasn't wise to talk to the illusions, but it was still Erik, even if he imagined him there. The soggy remnants of the bond burned in his chest and he closed his eyes to focus on his breathing. Everybody kept repeating him to stay calm. Maybe it would work this time. The room was quiet for a long while, and Charles kept his eyes closed, listening the birds sing outside the window. 

"You always close your eyes when I'm around," he said. “It's strange.” 

Charles opened his eyes. Erik was still there. He leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed over his chest. He looked pale and thin. Charles didn't remember him looking like that. He reached to touch his mind. The drugs made him clumsy and he couldn't get a proper hold, his touch slipping. Charles frowned. Why would he imagine something like that? 

"I'm here. Really," he said. 

“Why? How? The bond broke.”

He shrugged. 

“Azazel, mostly. Though I suspect your sister had something to do with it too,” he said, straightening up. He walked closer and slipped his finger under the cuff on his wrist. “What are these?” 

“They say I hurt myself when I sleep.”

He didn't comment on that, but he crouched down to look closer at the fastening. 

”I killed a man, didn't I?” Charles asked quietly. 

"Calling him a man is insult to all humans," Erik said without looking up from the buckle. Instead opening it, he pulled it tighter, his hand heavy against his arm. "You did nothing. Talked him for a minute, that's all. Forget it ever happened."

"I can't do that."

Erik straightened up. 

"He deserved everything he got. Actually, he deserved a lot worse. You were the merciful one there. If Emma had been in your place, it would've turned out a lot messier. Think it like that, if you have to think about it at all."

"I know what you would've done to him if you had the time," Charles said. He remembered the images that Erik carried around in his head, all the little details and variations. "I saw it when we walked in that room."

"And I know what you did to me in the bedroom. Emma told me."

"I wondered if she would."

There was a long silence. Erik's mind was a jumbled swirl of images. Charles recognized that trick. The thing Shaw had used, Erik had it now, and he could be thinking anything. How to kill him, how to torture him. Or kiss him, or love him. Charles didn't know. It sent a sudden shiver down his spine. 

"Why did you do it? Force the bond like that?" Erik asked.

"Half-formed bond was a risk, it made us both weaker. And your anger drowned you, I had to keep your head above the water somehow. I did what I had to do and I don't regret it."

“If you hadn't forced it, you wouldn't be injured like this.”

"If I hadn't done it, you would be dead. I'm sure of it," Charles said, raising his head to look at him. "I had to protect you."

"I don't need your protection."

"Yes, I remember. However, that isn't up to you. I'm the alpha here," Charles argued, leaning back against the pillow. Erik reached over him to tighten the other cuff as well before taking a step back from the bed. 

"I know,” Erik said and took his shirt off, dropping it on the chair. ”Which makes me the omega. And apparently that's a permanent state now. No returns if the package is opened, that's how Azazel put it. I will stay this way, no matter if we are together or not.” 

”For that, I'm sorry,” Charles said. “But now that the bond is gone, you can to take someone else as your mate. I can't stop you.” 

”I would still be omega with someone else,” Erik said, continuing to take his clothes off. Charles watched him, his mouth suddenly dry. ”And better the devil you know than the one you don't.”

He reached to grab the blanket and pulled it aside. 

“You don't have to do this,” Charles said, squirming against the straps. 

”I don't have to do anything, that's the point,” he said and reached for his pajama pants and started to tug them down. “But I want to do all kinds of things. I need to be in control what happens to me."

"I'm strapped to a bed," Charles noted. "And you have that thing on you that scrambles your thoughts. I can't get up and take it from you, and I can't influence you to give it to me. I would say you are in control here."

Erik didn't say anything, just stared at him intently.

"I can't hear you, if that's what you are trying," Charles said. 

"Good."

That hurt. It was one thing to let Erik take control because he needed that, an another that he wanted to stay mentally an arm's length away. Charles needed the connection, to see Erik's pleasure burn inside his mind. But he was still the alpha here. His duty was to protect and provide for his mate, and that meant that he couldn't always do it the way he wanted to do it. 

It meant that he did it the way Erik asked it to be done. The way he could accept it. The way he needed it. Even if it hurt.

“Now that I decide, I say we try the old school method,” he said, getting in the bed and touching his bare skin. It was electrifying, his body reacting to it immediately, like Erik had turned a switch inside him. “I can't guarantee love yet, that's why I brought the gadget with me.”

Charles blinked, confused. 

“What?”

“You told me that sex is never simple for you,” Erik said, continuing to stroke his skin, pushing his t-shirt up to bare more skin to touch. “Now it is. You don't have to listen anything. Just lay back and enjoy. Simple.” He leaned down to lick the stretch of skin above his navel and Charles drew a hurried breath. 

“Are you sure...” 

“Stop talking,” he ordered and reached to stroke his cock. Charles started to forget why he had wasted time doubting him. 

Charles hoped he would kiss him, but he was more interested about his chest. Erik licked and kissed his way up, his hand stroking him hard. He approached the left side of his body slowly, the part where Charles felt the wound the strongest. Charles held his breath, expecting pain when he would touch him. Erik smoothed his hand over the curve of his ribcage and back again. For the first time, the ache there eased. 

“Good?”

Charles nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Erik moved to straddle him, taking his time to position himself the way he wanted. Charles watched how he reached to grab his cock, adjusting, then inching down slowly. Charles didn't expect him to be that wet and ready this soon, but he was, like he had done nothing but prepared for this exact moment. Erik leaned against his shoulders and pressed down, pinning him against the mattress. Charles didn't know why he did that. Charles had no intention to move or leave underneath him ever again. He would stay right here and fuck Erik into oblivion and die happy doing exactly that. 

Erik moved, slow first, then faster. Without the mental connection, Charles felt him differently. He was tart and bright, a flavor and a scent at the same time. It dripped from his skin, evaporated in the air, and Charles couldn't have enough of it. He wanted to lick it off his sweaty skin, roll around in it. 

Erik swayed faster, rolling his hips, Charles' cock sliding in and out in wet slaps. That was the only sound in the room. Erik was quiet, focused. Charles watched him closely, every little detail. How his skin flushed, his muscles moved, taut one moment, soft the next, his cock hard and bouncing with his movements. He imagined how delicious he would look when he would be in heat. If he was this beautiful now, at heat he would be glorious. 

Charles wanted to touch him, but his weight and the straps kept him in place. He could only watch him. Erik's mind glowed, his orgasm rolling forward like a thundercloud. The gadget couldn't hide it. He ground against him, slammed down in short, hard jabs. His mind flashed bright, dark spots spattering across it, some rational thought staining the pure pleasure. He tensed, his body coiling and shivering and he closed his eyes. 

Charles wanted to order him to look at him, to see him come undone when his cock was in him. He knew Erik would obey the command, but Charles didn't want to do that. It would take the choice away from him again. Erik's mind crackled under the weight of the orgasm, his cock twitching as he splattered over his stomach, sticky and warm. He clutched his arms, leaning forward, his muscles trembling. The high leveled off and he opened his eyes. He stared at him confused, like listening some distant sound and glanced down. 

"You didn't finish."

Charles shook his head. 

"Why?"

"You know why."

Erik stared at him for a long, quiet moment and then he leaned down, baring his throat to him. Charles reached up, licking his neck, the vein throbbing under his tongue. He hummed, pleased and nipped his skin. He obeyed, leaning further down over him. Charles inhaled his scent, familiarizing with it. He bit down, soft at first but increasingly harder as the blinding need to mark him overthrew all his good intentions. He sank his teeth in, released and moved a fraction, biting down again. With every bite the orgasm build, the pressure getting unbearable. The last bite was too hard and he broke the skin. The thick, coppery flavor of Erik's blood rolled over his tongue and Charles came, snarling against his throat. 

Erik whimpered, pressing deeper against him, clutching him for support. Charles tugged the restraints, wanting to hold him but it was no use. He couldn't lift his hands. Charles released his hold from Erik's throat and licked the wound one last time. 

“Mine."

Erik rested against him, panting, his scent filling Charles' mind. 

***  
Raven watched him scarf down the food. Eggs and toast, fruits and pancakes, tea and orange juice, all piled on the little table by the window. The nurse packed the last of the medication in a case and left the room, closing the door behind her. 

"But why did you let him leave?" Raven asked. "I could've gone to a hotel, if that's the problem." 

Charles looked up from his plate and leaned back on his chair. 

"He wanted to leave," Charles said and emptied his glass. "I wasn't in the position to stop him, strapped down and all that."

"But he'll be back, won't he? You are together now."

Charles shrugged. 

"I didn't ask where he went." He reached to pour more juice and drank it all in a thirsty gulp. "But I know how to find him now."

"You do? So? What are you waiting for?"

Charles smiled. "It wouldn't be much of a head start if went after him now, would it?"

"You discovered the first aspect of your alpha nature, well done," Raven complimented. "And when you found him again, then what?"

"He has this thing about control. I would like to explore that properly. I think I'm going to need some rope. Was there more tea?"

Raven smiled and poured him a new cup. 

“Happy to have you back, brother.”


End file.
